


Learning to Drive

by Ms_Julius



Category: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:44:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Julius/pseuds/Ms_Julius
Summary: Billy is trying to teach Machiavelli to drive.It goes about as well as you'd think.





	Learning to Drive

Billy the Kid had been a reckless punk his whole life, that was no secret to anyone who knew even a little bit of his history. In fact, it had become somewhat his trademark; his entire character was nowadays based around the concept of a man taking unnecessary risks, jumping into firefight without second thought. A man who knew nothing of fear, a true outlaw of his time.

And yet, he was terrified.

“I don’t understand why this keeps beeping! I already did as you said, and it is still making that noise.”

Billy’s hands were squeezed tightly around the edges of the dashboard, his knuckles turning white as he tried to maintain his balance while glancing quickly at the man by his side. “I told you, it’s the warning. The car tries to tell you to drive further away from the white lines on the road.”

The older man huffed and steered the car slightly towards the middle line, increasing the distance between the curb and the wheels. “I don’t know why it won’t stop. I am in the center of the road now!”

“Yeah you are, and that’s the problem, dumbass! You’re too close to the middle line!”

Machiavelli was not a fast learner, not in this case. They’d been at this from the sunrise, and they had made zero progress over the hours. Billy was not a patient man to begin with, and despite his earlier self-confidence in regards to his ability to teach Machiavelli to drive, his mood was starting to turn sour. The magician’s skill weren’t shaping up, and even though they were driving on a remote, unused portion of road, Billy was worried that should a police happen to pass by, he would lose his own license since the car was rented with his name.

And he was growing more and more worried about the fact that they wouldn’t be able to return the car to the store in one piece.

The said car under him jumped suddenly, waking him up from his thoughts. Eyes wide, he looked ahead, a dense ball of apprehension swelling in his chest.

“You trying to kill us? Slow down you fucking maniac, there’s a curve coming up!”

Machiavelli’s mouth curled in disdain. “I see it!” With a jerk of a steering wheel, he turned the car to left, wheels screeching against the tarmac as they turned. Through his nearly closed eyelids, Billy could see the mere few inches separating them from going off the road.

He didn’t care to suppress his feelings about the matter.

“I should have never allowed you in the driver’s seat! I thought you said you’ve driven before?”

“I have!” Machiavelli shouted, his own fingers pressing hard against the leather of the steering wheel.

With a sneer, Billy raised an eyebrow to his partner. “And when was that, exactly?”

“... When they first introduced Ford Model T to the world.”

A heavy sigh from Billy’s part echoed over the sound of the humming engine. “For fuck’s sake, Mac.”

Sudden blush colored the magician cheeks, his eyes parting from the road briefly in order to glare at the cowboy with irritation. “Those were different times, Billy! There were far less buttons and moving parts in that vehicle!” He lifted his chin defiantly, returning his gaze back to the track. “Do _you_ know how to rein a horse carriage? Because that was the type transportation I became far more familiar with during my days.”

Glimmer of glee present in his voice, Billy snapped the air conditioning on, filling the car with fresh, cold air. “I do, in fact. Although I always preferred to ditch the waggons as soon as the sheriff began to shoot after me.”

Machiavelli huffed, annoyed. “Of course you did. You are a master of everything with wheels or hooves.”

“Indeed I am.” While fumbling with the buttons next to the radio, Billy managed to open the window on the car’s ceiling, a breeze of wind almost snatching his hat away from him until he hurriedly pressed the button again, shutting it down before Machiavelli had a chance to complain about it. “And unlike you, I’ve been broadening my horizons in many modern subjects instead of relying on fancy personal drivers and old means of communication.”

The blush on Machiavelli’s face deepened. “I never saw any need for me to drive. It seemed such a waste, given that with a driver I could work while traveling. It saved me time.”

“Well, you don’t really have a choice with me.” Billy’s hand came to rest on the small support piece beside his seat, their speed now slowed down enough for him to relax a bit. “I’m not gonna drive you around all day, and since I already bought us a new car, you’d better get a hang of this pretty soon.” Pushing his hand inside his jean’s pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened up a calendar app. “I ordered it from Germany. It should be arriving next week if everything goes smoothly.”

The car jumped slightly to the right when Machiavelli dodged a sizable tear in the asfalt. “‘I still don’t see why you had to buy me a new car. Couldn’t I just use yours?”

The horrified widening of Billy’s eyes was comical in its own right. “I am not letting you touch my darling! That car has been my baby for years now, and I’m not risking its well-being in the hands of you and your poor excuse of driving!”

Machiavelli’s eyes rolled. “It’s just a car, Billy.”

“It’s more than that!” The blue eyes turned hazy, a fond expression sickening enough to lure a grimace out of the magician. “It is an original Thunderbird, a true piece of art! Those smooth lines, a ravenous burst of red paint, the tender leather of the custom seats! Oh, so many adventures we’ve been through together...”

The scowl on Machiavelli’s face grew in depth. “You are romanticizing over an inanimate object, Billy.”

Just then a loud bang ran through the car, jolting them both.

Billy’s eyes immediately looked at the control panel, searching for a light to inform him if something had broken. “You drove right into a hole, Mac. Didn’t I tell you to avoid those?”

And with that, their bickering came full circle and returned to the first topic of the day.

“I didn’t see it! And shouldn’t you be the one guiding me in this instead of barking out cheeky comments and unhelpful opinions?”

“I’m trying, but somehow I’m starting to believe that teaching a monkey to breakdance would be an easier task than this!”

“Who said I wanted to do this in the first place?” There was a moment of silence before Machiavelli opened his mouth to mutter to himself. “Infuriating piece of machinery.”

His hand raising to sweep his hair back from his forehead, Billy leaned back and sighed. “Yeah well, I think in this case the problem lies between the steering wheel and the driver’s seat.”

Machiavelli’s jaw tensed at that. “Will you shut up! Or better yet, tell me why this thing is making such a incoherent noise?”

It was Billy’s turn to roll his eyes. “It’s switching the gears. Jeez, I explained that when we started. This is an automatic car, therefore it decides itself what gear is good enough for the speed you’re driving.” With a teasing sniff, he threw a dirty glance at his partner. “It’s supposed to make it easier to drive.”

“... _sta' zitto_.”

* * *

**TUESDAY, NEXT WEEK**

The car standing at the end of their driveway was a simple, modern Mercedes Benz, a gray paint and a chromed set of hubcaps giving it an elegant look despite it being one of the plainest models in the markets. When they’d been making their choice, Billy had tried to insist that they should go with something bold, something similar to his own car. A Jaguar, perhaps, or a new Mustang.

The talk had met its quick end when Machiavelli had drily pointed out that the reason they were looking for a car in the first place was to ensure that he was able to handle it. So anything with too much power behind the lid was promptly shut out.

Machiavelli stood beside his new vehicle, eyeing it suspiciously while Billy walked around it waving his hands like a lunatic. The man was talking faster and faster, most of the words running straight past Machiavelli’s mind since he had not the slightest idea what the cowboy was going on about.

“And this is the type of enamel that prevents it from gaining any surface damage from the - “

By raising his hand, Machiavelli cut down the cowboy’s jabber and managed to calm him down for a short moment. “Does it have four wheels and one to steer with?”

“Yeah, sure”, Billy answered, confusion clear on his face as he stopped to lean against the side of the car.

“Then it’s good enough for me.”

He should try it. After all, Billy had bought it for him, and it would be a waste to left the car unused. So, with more than little skepticism, the magician lowered himself slightly and slipped inside of from the heavy door Billy was holding open for him. It seemed comfortable enough, and the space for his legs was definitely more roomy than in the rental car.

Sitting down completely, Machiavelli came to glance at this side, and frowned.

“Billy, why is there a stick between the seats?”

The outlaw bent his knees and looked inside, past Machiavelli’s lap.

“Oh shit.”


End file.
